CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : HFK vs 3rdPerson
So he calls himself Happy Face, so check it
I will f**king wind your scalp, one side around
'Til your jugular pipe valve is touching ya eyebrows
And you need a surgeon with a crowbar shoved inside ya mouth
Just to turn that frown back upside down
But at least that way, when he's beaten and rid of
Yo, you'll have no problem keeping your chin up
'cause your lame with ya 'ligibles
This is what Immortal Technique would look like if he hit his head and became a vegetable
'Cause I'm sicker when I rap flows
Your sh*t couldn't be cutting edge if you had scissors in your a**hole
Yo check it, and your wallеt will never get thе green
Crying in the shower is the only time you're balling (bawling) fresh and clean
I rip you out of the spot
No doubt that I'm hot
I'm knocking out this jock
Best believe, my mouth, it just rocks
Every rhythm I'm on
I'm spitting it strong
I'm ripping him apart
Can't step to me, I disregard his b*t*ha** bars
You can't step up in the battle
'cause I spit it mathematical
When you rap, you black and blue, b*t*h
In rap, I'm the first Persian
But I think this bird's chirpin'
'Cause uh, what kinda nerd virgin is called '3rdPerson'
He's a true fairy, and I know I'm a known j*rk
But after the battle, you better finish my homework
I doubt this c**t blasts gats
But f**k that crap
He makes enough bad tracks
And looks like a young Jack Black
Probably pimps a sh*tload of guys at a gay hotel
Probably pimps a sh*tload of girls, on AOL
I look at you and tell you gon' die punk
And he's like, "I know I suck, I'm a four eyed f**k"
You think this fag is a murderer
In London, him and his boy sit down and talk about whose gla**es are nerdier
This kid's got the smallest d**k
A ridiculous bowl of sh*t
Who likes to sit down and talk about religion and politics
I'll have your house surrounded by a gang of Haitians
And on Facebook, he added the wack rapper application
Change your last name to O'Donnel, you're a joke like Rosie
But don't worry, one day you'll be as dope as OZ
This loser's a f**king virgin, he's lonely and desperate
And you're so dumb and stupid, it's like your dome gets no reception
So yo, a question
What does pu**y have in common with two plus two?
If you ask him about either, he'll say, "I don't get it"
Check it, with your bovine thickness
It's motherf**kers like you that keep sex phone lines in business
And what's more disgusting than a fat boy embarra**ed of his body
You're like a parody copy of George Costanza, but you're more hairy and stocky
He tried to hang himself 'cause his waist is really round
But he's so f**king heavy, he just weighed the ceiling down
Every word you rhyme I will use to fry you alive
You might be as well by tying a noose, 'cause anything you string together is f**king suicide
I'll rip you in half
You don't wanna step to the lyrical rap
You're a f**king joke
I cut ya throat
I bust a flow
Then I'll knock you out the park
No doubt my bars are out my mouth is hard
I hit him hard in the head, his whole style is stolen
He probably watches Dharma & Greg and likes to blast Michael Bolton
I rip this dude for practice
Just to prove his wackness
And with gla**es that thick, you should do my taxes
Gay clubs, this fool is there
Makeup, this dude will wear
His mom's lunch are prunes and pears
With sprinkles of my pubic hair
I heard his songs, they're gay as f**k and they're bad tunes
And in high school, he probably ate his lunch in the bathroom
I'm ripping this boy
This kid gets destroyed
And he has chilling with toys
When he's with Siegfried and Roy
F**k US and their wild economy
This gay f**king guy likes sodomy
But when they took away his computer, he's like "Nooo! My child p***ography!"
Aye yo, lay low
It's not ya day, bro
'cause girls treat your d**k like drugs, they just say no
You think his f**king track's a banger
I invade your city like Alexander
But you should get a job to be that faggot Chandler
And Adam Sandler's baggage handler
This guy is desperate to get some applause and merit
But this crowd wouldn't accept you if Facebook friend requested
So check it, I rip you out the park
No doubt my bars is strong and hard
You can't step to me, f**k it, I get your esophagus charred
Because I spit mad flames
I don't need to aggravate this wack fake
But I slash your face with gats and blades
And just jet from the scene
Check it, I'm the best of MCs
My complexity cut you from ya head to ya knees
And leave you riddled with blood like machetes in trees
F**k it, slurring my words, but check it
Yo, you'll never get props for your verbals and words
Only time this guy is a crowd pleaser is when he's in a circle j*rk
So yo, I'm back up in it
Ready to smack this faggot dipsh*t
My whole style is cataclysmic
F**k it, your b*t*ha**edness is just a gimmick
He thinks he's a rebel, goes around saying I'm scary
But the only hard time he spent is at the library
You're not so ill
You got to chill
Stop popping pills
To stay home and watch The Hills and Doctor Phil
You think his chips stacking?
He was on the show Intervention where his family begged him to quit rapping
Now he's angry, he's gonna rip my pictures 'cause he's feeling hard
He's just angry I didn't tip his sister at the t**ty bar
Your mom should die 'cause God hates her
And you like to dress up like Darth Vader and watch Frasier
I'm gonna f**king find this guy and kill
'Cause he couldn't be real (B-Real) if he was the guy from Cypress Hill
He likes to open his crack for a rod
He gets attacked and then robbed
He used to work at the sperm bank and got fired 'cause he drank on the job
I will f**king wind your scalp, one side around
'Til your jugular pipe valve is touching ya eyebrows
And you need a surgeon with a crowbar shoved inside ya mouth
Just to turn that frown back upside down
But at least that way, when he's beaten and rid of
Yo, you'll have no problem keeping your chin up
'cause your lame with ya 'ligibles
This is what Immortal Technique would look like if he hit his head and became a vegetable
'Cause I'm sicker when I rap flows
Your sh*t couldn't be cutting edge if you had scissors in your a**hole
Yo check it, and your wallеt will never get thе green
Crying in the shower is the only time you're balling (bawling) fresh and clean
I rip you out of the spot
No doubt that I'm hot
I'm knocking out this jock
Best believe, my mouth, it just rocks
Every rhythm I'm on
I'm spitting it strong
I'm ripping him apart
Can't step to me, I disregard his b*t*ha** bars
You can't step up in the battle
'cause I spit it mathematical
When you rap, you black and blue, b*t*h
In rap, I'm the first Persian
But I think this bird's chirpin'
'Cause uh, what kinda nerd virgin is called '3rdPerson'
He's a true fairy, and I know I'm a known j*rk
But after the battle, you better finish my homework
I doubt this c**t blasts gats
But f**k that crap
He makes enough bad tracks
And looks like a young Jack Black
Probably pimps a sh*tload of guys at a gay hotel
Probably pimps a sh*tload of girls, on AOL
I look at you and tell you gon' die punk
And he's like, "I know I suck, I'm a four eyed f**k"
You think this fag is a murderer
In London, him and his boy sit down and talk about whose gla**es are nerdier
This kid's got the smallest d**k
A ridiculous bowl of sh*t
Who likes to sit down and talk about religion and politics
I'll have your house surrounded by a gang of Haitians
And on Facebook, he added the wack rapper application
Change your last name to O'Donnel, you're a joke like Rosie
But don't worry, one day you'll be as dope as OZ
This loser's a f**king virgin, he's lonely and desperate
And you're so dumb and stupid, it's like your dome gets no reception
So yo, a question
What does pu**y have in common with two plus two?
If you ask him about either, he'll say, "I don't get it"
Check it, with your bovine thickness
It's motherf**kers like you that keep sex phone lines in business
And what's more disgusting than a fat boy embarra**ed of his body
You're like a parody copy of George Costanza, but you're more hairy and stocky
He tried to hang himself 'cause his waist is really round
But he's so f**king heavy, he just weighed the ceiling down
Every word you rhyme I will use to fry you alive
You might be as well by tying a noose, 'cause anything you string together is f**king suicide
I'll rip you in half
You don't wanna step to the lyrical rap
You're a f**king joke
I cut ya throat
I bust a flow
Then I'll knock you out the park
No doubt my bars are out my mouth is hard
I hit him hard in the head, his whole style is stolen
He probably watches Dharma & Greg and likes to blast Michael Bolton
I rip this dude for practice
Just to prove his wackness
And with gla**es that thick, you should do my taxes
Gay clubs, this fool is there
Makeup, this dude will wear
His mom's lunch are prunes and pears
With sprinkles of my pubic hair
I heard his songs, they're gay as f**k and they're bad tunes
And in high school, he probably ate his lunch in the bathroom
I'm ripping this boy
This kid gets destroyed
And he has chilling with toys
When he's with Siegfried and Roy
F**k US and their wild economy
This gay f**king guy likes sodomy
But when they took away his computer, he's like "Nooo! My child p***ography!"
Aye yo, lay low
It's not ya day, bro
'cause girls treat your d**k like drugs, they just say no
You think his f**king track's a banger
I invade your city like Alexander
But you should get a job to be that faggot Chandler
And Adam Sandler's baggage handler
This guy is desperate to get some applause and merit
But this crowd wouldn't accept you if Facebook friend requested
So check it, I rip you out the park
No doubt my bars is strong and hard
You can't step to me, f**k it, I get your esophagus charred
Because I spit mad flames
I don't need to aggravate this wack fake
But I slash your face with gats and blades
And just jet from the scene
Check it, I'm the best of MCs
My complexity cut you from ya head to ya knees
And leave you riddled with blood like machetes in trees
F**k it, slurring my words, but check it
Yo, you'll never get props for your verbals and words
Only time this guy is a crowd pleaser is when he's in a circle j*rk
So yo, I'm back up in it
Ready to smack this faggot dipsh*t
My whole style is cataclysmic
F**k it, your b*t*ha**edness is just a gimmick
He thinks he's a rebel, goes around saying I'm scary
But the only hard time he spent is at the library
You're not so ill
You got to chill
Stop popping pills
To stay home and watch The Hills and Doctor Phil
You think his chips stacking?
He was on the show Intervention where his family begged him to quit rapping
Now he's angry, he's gonna rip my pictures 'cause he's feeling hard
He's just angry I didn't tip his sister at the t**ty bar
Your mom should die 'cause God hates her
And you like to dress up like Darth Vader and watch Frasier
I'm gonna f**king find this guy and kill
'Cause he couldn't be real (B-Real) if he was the guy from Cypress Hill
He likes to open his crack for a rod
He gets attacked and then robbed
He used to work at the sperm bank and got fired 'cause he drank on the job
